


Just Your Regular Valentine's Day Stabbing

by InsertImaginativeNameHere



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Jesse is an idiot, M/M, Stabbing, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 08:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9714017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsertImaginativeNameHere/pseuds/InsertImaginativeNameHere
Summary: Jesse intervenes in a robbery and comes away injured. After patching himself up, he decides to attend his date with Hanzo anyway because it IS Valentine's Day after all.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mVincentJ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mVincentJ/gifts).



> working title of this fic was McHanzOW bc I am a hilarious person who is very, very original w my puns  
> EYYYYYYYY I WROTE A HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY FIC BC IM A GOOD BEAN EYYYYY ENJOY
> 
> (10/10 untrue)

Clutching onto the sink, he pulled himself onto his feet, stumbling and cursing and breathing raggedly as he stared at the mirror and swore again, staggering. He clutched his side, hissing in pain, and brought his hand away to look at it. No blood. He was good. The bandages were holding. He managed to straighten himself up, and looked at himself in the mirror, where he stood sweating and shaking. Had to stop that. He mustered up a grin, leant down and splashed water on his face and wiped the blood off. Better. His shirt was an irretrievable mess, but that was no hardship. He discarded it, picking a fresh one out of his bag and changing quickly. He couldn’t keep his boyfriend waiting, could he now? It was Valentine’s Day, for Christ’s sake.

Maybe that didn’t mean the same thing over here, he knew vaguely they celebrated differently in Japan, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to do his best. He wasn’t going to let Hanzo down. It was their first Valentine’s together, and he wanted to make an impression. True, neither of them could afford much on a fugitive’s budget, and they were going to be meeting in their regular noodle bar as a result; however Jesse was going to insist on paying and on buying from the deluxe menu too, because that shit was impressive.

Everything had been going to plan, until he’d witnessed a robbery going down on his way home and he wasn’t really one to sit on the sidelines and just watch. No sirree, he was going to stick his foot out and trip the thief, step out into the street and grin, taking a drag on his cigar. Because that kind of thing was dramatic and looked cool.

Less dramatic and cool-looking was getting stabbed twice in quick succession (though admittedly he broke the guy’s arm and handed him to the authorities before managing to scarper). He hadn’t expected someone so low on the food chain to be carrying. He hadn’t expected it, and he should have. It would have been fine if the knife hadn’t been modified somehow, of a harder steel than was normal, slipping into his abdomen and twisting, the blade itself exploding on the second stab and sending shrapnel into him. He’d pulled most of it out but there was no way of knowing whether there was any left in there, not without a proper medical exam and who had time for that? It wasn’t like he could visit a nearby hospital, he was a wanted man and so was Hanzo. Getting arrested was not a good Valentine’s Day, he knew this from experience.

So he did a quick patch-up job in the bathroom of the cheap apartment he was renting and took a handful of painkillers, before shooting himself some finger guns in the mirror and heading out to the date.

He grinned, almost tripped on the stairs on the way out, cussing under his breath, and managed somehow to regain his balance. He was fine. He would be totally fine. It helped that his boyfriend, while exceptional in many ways, had little to no observational skills to speak of and so all Jesse had to do was make it through one date. He was certain he could wing his way through that without giving away the whole stabbing thing. Easy as pie. 

One thing was for sure, these painkillers were a doozy. They hadn’t seemed to be working at first, but then they’d hit him around the head like a chemical brick and everything felt all fuzzy which was a good thing because if it felt fuzzy it didn’t feel painful.  _ Probably _ a good thing; he knew Angela for one would disagree and would tell him to rest and lie down and read the label rather than chugging a bottle of the nearest painkillers. And that he should read the label first. And then not proceed to go on a date that might involve alcohol. All in all, not his best plan ever. 

Still, he was only a little late, arriving at the restaurant to see Hanzo waiting for him. He kissed him, feeling his beard against his skin and feeling content. He wasn’t sure how well his legs would hold up and flopped into a seat as soon as he could.

“Jesse? Are you alright?”

He mustered up a grin. “Yeah, yeah darlin’, I’m doing good. Just tired. Been a long day. Better now you’re here.”

Hanzo nodded, seeming to accept this explanation. “Okay. Did you want to order something specific?”

“I’ll have whatever you’d recommend,” he replied with a smirk. Reaching out impulsively, he took Hanzo’s hand and kissed each finger in turn. A small cough rose in his throat and he caught it in time, coughing into his hand and trying to suppress his own alarm when his hand came away red. No. Not happening. He wiped it on his trousers without saying anything. “Sorry, I think I’ve got a cold coming on.”

Hanzo frowned. “If you need to go home and rest-”

“Nah, ‘cause you’re the best medicine.” Hanzo rolled his eyes. “Whaaaaat? I’m only being romantic.”

“You’re being an idiot, Jesse.”

“Same difference.” He leaned forward and tried to kiss Hanzo across the table. He failed because there was a table in the way. Hanzo eased him back into his seat.

“People are staring.”

“Only ‘cause they’re jelly, sweetheart. I’m the luckiest man in the world.” He was, aside from getting stabbed with a modified blade earlier in the day but the fact he was alive right now, and flirting outrageously with his boyfriend, was a sign he was indeed the luckiest man. Or something on those lines. It was hard to think straight (haha pun), he was kinda strung out on painkillers. He wondered absently what it looked like to Hanzo. Probably like he’d been drinking. Hanzo knew him, he knew Jesse didn’t exactly have good impulse control in general, not least where booze was involved. Jesse felt a sudden pain in his chest at the thought, it’d look like he’d come to their date drunk and like he didn’t care about Hanzo. That wouldn’t do. 

“As am I,” Hanzo said instead, choosing not to comment on Jesse’s behaviour beyond that. “I’ll order us the house specialty.” He frowned. “Will you be wanting anything to drink?”

Jesse shook his head. “Nah, I’m good.” Mixing whisky and painkillers was not a clever plan. For once, he decided to listen to the little voice that sounded like Angela telling him to behave himself. “You don’t gotta worry about me, darlin’. I’m doin’ just peachy. This is a special day for us. It’s all about makin’ us some memories we can look back on and enjoy.”

Hanzo gave him a slightly dubious look, but ordered anyway and allowed Jesse to take his hand across the table, squeezing it in return. Jesse gave him a watery smile. He could do this. He could hold it together. This was important.

Their food came and Jesse made a show of fumbling with his chopsticks, which made Hanzo smile and poke fun at him, and distracted him from noticing any other pertinent details. Like flecks of blood Jesse had coughed up a moment ago spattering the table. He leaned forward, hiding them with his elbow very, very subtly. Perfect. Hanzo didn’t suspect a thing. He was lucky to have such an unobservant boyfriend. 

His stomach churned. He held his food down with some effort, swallowing and forcing himself to eat another bite. Looking at his bowl it seemed like an insurmountable task but he gritted his teeth and kept going. He looked at Hanzo and saw him frown. 

“Jesse. Are you alright?”

“I-” he started and cut off, seeing the table as it fell toward him and his head connected with a hard surface. He could feel Hanzo touching his face, lifting his head and supporting his weight. Jesse grinned.  “Wow. Dunno what happened there.”

Hanzo stared at him. “Jesse…” His expression turned into one of horror. “Jesse, you're bleeding.”

Jesse looked down at himself, detached and numb.  _ Oh _ , he thought.  _ Well then _ . Desperately trying to save the situation he shot Hanzo what he hoped was a winning smile. “Whaaaat? Naw, can't be. It's prolly just ketchup, y’know, got sauce on me.”

“Jesse this is a noodle bar.  They don't have ketchup.” Hanzo was holding him up, a look of pain and fear in his eyes. “Please, Jesse. You're hurt.” He grabbed him, sitting him up and the little stains of blood on the table were so obvious. Jesse clutched his side, trying to cover it up but he knew the case was lost. Dammit. He’d tried so hard. But involuntary biological responses were involuntary and he couldn’t stop blood seeping through his bandages and shirt. He couldn’t stop himself bleeding out. Much as he tried. Stubbornness was not a valid cure.

Hanzo tried to help him to his feet, and finally Jesse stopped struggling against him and gave in. He’d got to his feet when, wobbling uncertainly, he stumbled and fell and heard Hanzo yell out and then heard nothing at all but silence and yelling from very, very far away.

He tried to speak, and his words cut off in his throat. 

He was out cold.

Leaving Hanzo to pick him up.

 

-

 

He woke up in a bed, somewhere he wasn’t certain. His head hurt and his side was in agony again. Groaning, he rolled over and he felt gentle hands placating him. He looked up into Hanzo’s dark eyes and attempted a hollow grin.

“I don’t know about you, darlin’, but I think that’s a Valentine’s Day to remember.” He gave a jackassed smile and Hanzo rolled his eyes.

“Only you would joke about something like this,” Hanzo said, his voice quiet and carefully emotionless. He looked at Jesse and suddenly Jesse could see the fear in his eyes behind his guarded facade. “What happened? What were you thinking?”

Jesse shrugged and winced at the pain. “I didn’t want to miss our date. Call me a hopeless romantic, but it’s a special day. An’ I wanted to make it impressive for you. ‘Cause I love you.” 

Hanzo softened slightly, then his eyes hardened with fury. “You fool. You could have bled out, you could have  _ died _ . Your life is more important than...than anything else, Jesse.” He looked away bitterly, and Jesse wondered if being so attracted to his boyfriend’s anger was a little fucked. He reached for Hanzo’s hand and took it.

“Hey, don’t make it like I’m some kind of lovestruck idiot. ‘Cause I am but...I’ve been doing field surgery for years. I know what I’m about. Just drew a short straw this time. Was bound to happen. Still, what other options did we have? None. I did what I could.”

“You could have told me,” Hanzo replied, voice low. “I thought I might lose you. Jesse-” he met his eyes. “I love you too. Please don’t do this.”

“Our lives are dangerous enough, babe, that this’ll happen again no matter what. Maybe not to you. To me. An’ don’t make like you ain’t a stubborn enough idiot to try it. ‘Cause I can name at least one if not more occasions you pretended an injury was more minor so people wouldn’t fuss you none.” 

Hanzo smiled faintly and squeezed his hand. “We are quite the pair, aren’t we? Two disasters, imploding together.”

“Poetic,” Jesse murmured. “Happy Valentine’s, darlin’.”

Hanzo kissed his forehead. “Happy Valentine’s. Please stay alive for the next one.”

“Will do, partner. Will do.”

Or, at the very least, he’d  _ try _ . If nothing else, he’d give it his damndest and would not go gentle into any night, good or otherwise. 

_ Rage, rage against the dying of the light _ , or however the poem went. Jesse had heard it somewhere and couldn’t recall where, but it stuck in the mind something awful. He resolved to do just that. No night was going to be claiming him without one hell of a fight.

Not without Hanzo.

There were many more Valentines left to come, right? Many, many, many. Too many to count. Call it hopeless optimism, but Jesse liked to believe.

Made a change, didn’t it, having something to believe in?

He believed in time and so he looked to the future, his future with Hanzo, and he smiled faintly and kissed him. And that was something. That was how it went. It would never end and one day it would, so he would fight against that eventuality as hard as he could.

He would  _ rage _ .

And live.


End file.
